The Perfect Lie
by darkestharmony
Summary: When Sylar died, Claire knew that she could tell no one of their relationship. AU.


Written for the latest FCG challenge. =) Sylar/Claire; kind of angst-y, and beta'd. =)

* * *

Claire looked up at her father, unsure of what to feel.

She knew what she should be feeling, happiness and relief, but she felt none of that. Instead she felt angry, sad.

Sylar wasn't supposed to die like this. Sylar wasn't supposed to _die_.

He was supposed to be immortal; her power should have made sure of that.

"There will be a time for mourning," Noah said, rubbing her back.

She wasn't crying, but she was close to it. Too many things were happening; her parents' divorce, people still being kidnapped, agents following her around constantly. This was just the icing on the cake, the thing that would make her break finally.

Her body might have been invincible, but her mind was anything but.

"Why?" Claire asked through gritted teeth, closing her eyes.

His body was still fresh in her mind, not resembling what charred remains there were of him at Building 26.

She had been there, fighting against him, so sure that he would win, just he always did. He would win and then everybody would scatter and come together with a new plan, a plan that would not succeed yet again because Sylar was just too powerful.

If she had faith in anything, it was that Sylar was like a god. She believed that no matter how hard anybody tried, they could not defeat him.

All Claire had was a gun, while the others all had their own powers they could use to fight him. The fight ended as quickly as it began, the Haitian entering the fray, blocking everyone from using their abilities.

Peter was the one who killed him. She doesn't want to remember what he did, though she knows that he used an ability, one that worked despite the Haitian.

"Why did they have to kill him?" Claire asked again, forcing back her tears. She wouldn't cry over him in front of her father, who knew nothing of what her relationship with Sylar really was. If he had, then Sylar would have been as good as dead anyway.

"He brought it upon himself," Noah alleged. "He thought he was far better than all of us, and his arrogance killed him."

"Arrogance?" Claire asked in disbelief. "Sylar wasn't arrogant, he _was_ far better than any of us. You know that, Dad."

"It's in ourselves to rise or fall," Noah said. "He rose, and then he fell."

"It wasn't his fault," Claire said, the tears flowing though she desperately didn't want them to. "The Company made him into the man he was! If you'd actually cared about people with abilities then –"

"This has nothing to do with love," Her father said and Claire wanted to do nothing more than shake him and tell him _"This has absolutely everything to do with love!" _but that would irresponsible.

Their perfect little lie would be unravelled on the day of his death. Claire was his dirty little secret, and he wanted it to stay that way forever. Not for as long as he lived, _forever_. He'd made that clear before they started anything.

"I need some time alone," Claire whispered, wiping her eyes and leaving the room.

Noah watched her go, feeling helpless. He desperately wanted to help her, but he hadn't the faintest idea of what her problem was.

Claire closed the door to her bedroom silently, resisting the urge to slam it and have a temper tantrum like she used to when things didn't go her way.

Everything had been so perfect; she and Sylar were in love (she thought though she wasn't entirely sure what it was) and Nathan was beginning to realize that people with abilities weren't all as dangerous as Sylar.

Then he showed up and messed everything up.

Sylar wasn't supposed to be in Building 26, he wasn't supposed to be in America. Claire had given him the paperwork to go to another country to start a new life with a clean slate.

The part that really got to Claire was that he wasn't there to see her and make her come with him – no, he was there to get Danko, to kill him.

Peter, Claire, Nathan, and Danko had been in a room together, discussing what had to happen next. Claire was determined to make Danko see that people with abilities weren't dangerous, blissfully ignorant of who was about to enter through the door.

When he did enter, he had blood on his arms and dead guards were strewn about the floor. Peter handed Claire a gun he had hidden. "Don't hesitate to kill," he told her, but she couldn't agree to that. She could never hurt him, and she was sure that Sylar wouldn't hurt her.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Claire asked, dropping the gun.

Sylar ignored her and turned to Danko, a sick smile on his face, he tilted his head and outstretched his arm, cutting Danko's forehead.

"Stop!" Claire cried, trying to run to him. Peter and Nathan held her back, and Peter shot at him with the gun that Claire had dropped. The bullet went into his chest, causing him to fall back. Danko shot at him next hitting him right between the eyes, holding his hand up to his bleeding forehead.

"You can't kill me," Sylar said. Claire watched in horror as he pulled the bullet out and threw it to the side. "But I can kill you." Sylar twitched his finger, causing Danko to go flying back against the wall. Nathan stepped in front of Danko, holding out his hands to stop Sylar.

"Get out of here, Gabriel," Nathan said, nodding at the door. "Get out of here and you won't get hurt."

The Haitian was running towards them, and as soon as he stepped through the door, Claire knew that Peter, Danko, and Nathan wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

"I need to take care of somebody first," Sylar said, twitching his fingers again, Nathan flew off to the side and Danko was hovering above the ground, his arms at his side.

"Stop!" Claire cried again, but her cry was drowned by Peter charging at Sylar, thrusting his arm through Sylar's chest.

The Haitian was there; his gun pointed at Sylar, Danko was on the floor, being helped up by Nathan.

"You're going to Hell," Peter said, stepping away from Sylar, who immediately burst into flames.

Peter's arm was caked in blood, feeling sick to the stomach Claire stormed out of the room, numb. She didn't feel the need to cry, she felt the need to vomit, to wake up from the nightmare.

He was gone. Gone forever, and Claire would never meet anybody like him again.

* * *

"Claire-bear," Noah said, opening the door.

Claire looked up at him, hugging a pillow to her body.

"Do you think anybody will mourn him?" Claire asked.

"I don't know," Noah said, sitting down next to Claire. "I just… don't know."


End file.
